Set Up. || PURPLEPHONE

Purple Jelly-Pants.

Mike groaned, watching the two men disappear off through the huge crowd of people. He'd barely seen it happen. Vincent had muttered something about Scott's legs being too short for him to walk fast enough, and like that, they'd both taken off, racing each other towards the Laserforce building while shouting threats and abuse.

He raised his pace to a jog in an attempt to catch up to him. He was glad, at least, that he'd chosen an activity that both Scott and Vincent enjoyed... if only they weren't going to use it as some kind of petty competition against each other... again.

He reached the front of the building and sprinted inside, slowing his pace to an impatient walk as he made it to the front counter. "I'm sorry, did you see two guys come in here a second ago? Probably insulting each other?"

The cashier's angry look said enough. Mike sighed and apologised, pulling out the tickets he had in his back pocket and handing them over. "I'll make sure they don't do it again," he promised. A promise that he knew would be impossible to keep.

He stepped into the armoury room to find Vincent and Scott shoving on their laser-tag suits, clipping them up angrily while glaring at each other. There were a group of ten-or-so year olds and a few 19-or-so girls around them, all cowering slightly as they watched the two.

"Let me warn you, Vincent," Scott snarled, "I don't plan on letting you win easily."

"Well, you're short enough that you could hide anywhere, I'll give you that," Vincent replied coolly.

Scott's eyes widened, "First of all, how dare you-"

"Alright ladies, calm down," Mike picked up a suit and pulled it over his head, "We get it. Vincent's an eggplant, Scott's a midget, and Mike, the guy who paid for your tickets, is the third wheel. Can we play some laser tag, now?"

For the first time that morning, Scott and Vincent stopped bickering to look up at Mike. 

Scott sighed, "I guess... Sorry Mike. Vincent just rubs me up the wrong way."

"I would never have guessed," Mike deadpanned. "Just, for the love of Freddy Fazbear, keep it to yourselves." 

Scott opened his mouth to reply, but suddenly, Mike pointed behind him. "Hey!"

Scott wheeled around to see Vincent slowly slipping off inside the maze to find the best hiding spot ahead of time. 

"Hey!" Scott yelled, "Vincent, get back here! The game hasn't started yet!" He ran after him.

Mike sighed and looked around at the group of other players they'd be versing. "Sorry about them," he shrugged his shoulders, "In my opinion, they have some crazy sexual tension they need to relieve."

The game started. 

It was instant frenzy; the arena turned into a battlefield, the speakers on Mike's suit constantly blasting out stats and warnings. Scott and Vincent seemed to turn into trained snipers, hunting down everyone else and owning the place like assassins. 

Geez, Mike thought, as his suit was deactivated once again by a rapid-fire shot from Scott as he jumped over a barrel and dived back down under cover again. For grown men, they're taking this game very seriously.

Vincent came around the corner like a ninja and shot a little kid who's suit had just re-activated. The kid started to cry as Vincent pushed impatiently past him.

Mike sighed and came out from the perfect place he'd been hiding. Someone else leapt in behind him and stole his spot, and his suit was shot instantly. I'm never taking Vincent and Scott laser-tagging again, he thought sourly as he walked over to the crying boy. "Sorry about that. My friend Vincent is a little grumpy today..." 

"He's a stupid-head!" The child wailed.

Vincent continued on his kill streak, shooting everyone in the room. Congratulations, the speaker in his suit said, You are coming second.

"Second?" Vincent's eyes widened in disbelief and then narrowed instantaneously. "That little cheater..." He stalked off, back the way he'd came. 

Intrigued, Mike followed after him quietly.

Vincent wove through the walls in the maze, jumping over obstacles and turning down a path that Mike had never seen before. It ended up in a room where Scott was standing, repeatedly shooting a panel that read, "Bonus 1000 points."

"I knew it!" Vincent hissed, and he shot Scott in the back.

"Hey!" Scott frowned, his suit happily proclaiming that he was no longer coming first. 

"You're such a cheat," Vincent complained, "You know you're not supposed to use that panel."

"Hey, I'm not complaining," Mike said, shooting the panel a couple of times until Scott shot him with a mumbled 'don't cheat, Mike' - as if that wasn't exactly what he'd been doing. 

Thirty seconds of gameplay remaining, the speaker on all of their suits announced cheerily.

"What?!" Scott and Vincent turned and pushed angrily past each other, running towards the live-stat screen, where you could see a play-by-play analysis of every point earned in the game.

"Purple Jelly-Pants?" Scott squinted at the screen at Vincent's username. "Are you serious?"

"Says you, Ring-Ring the Destroyer," Vincent chuckled, "What kind of a nerdy username is that? Oh, wait a second, look at this!" He pointed to the rankings. Scott was at 18795 points.

Vincent was at 18796.

Ten seconds of gameplay remaining.

Vincent whooped, pointing his gun at the ceiling, "Take that, Mr. Number One in the city!" He peered at the screen, "Oh, and what's this? 18796 points is the new record for our city! My, my, Scott. Looks like you've met your match, after all!" 

Nine, Eight, Seven...

Vincent spun his gun in his hands and slid it into the holster, leaning back and cracking his knuckles, with the cockiest grin Scott had ever seen, "Guess I'm just too good for you."

Six, Five, Four...

"What's wrong, Scott?" Vincent teased, leaning forwards to poke Scott, who was staring off into the distance, looking somewhere between dead inside and raging. "You upset that you lost your precious little record to eggplant man?"

Three, Two, One.

Scott nonchalantly pulled his gun out of its holster and shot Vincent in the chest. His score changed to 187800.

Game Over, man, Game Over! What's this? A new state record set! Congratulations, soldier!

Vincent gaped.

Scott blew across the top of his gun as if clearing smoke. "You were good, kid. Real good," He slung the gun back into his holster. "But as long as I'm around, see, you'll always be second best."

Vincent glared vehemently at him, "You little ba-"

Scott put a finger to his lips, "There's children around."

Vincent growled, "I hate you."

Scott grinned smugly, "I hate you, too."